Sales Contest
by superskrull
Summary: Michael pairs everyone in the office off and holds a one day sales contest when something unexpected happens.


The Office: "Sales Contest"

Notes: This story happens after Conflict Resolution but before Casino Night

"Money is the single greatest sole motivator in sales," Michael Scott said expertly in his private interview. "But it's not the only sole motivator. Teamwork and competition, two equally important halves of this equation, are just as great motivators as money. Except money is obviously the greatest. And that's why I am having a sales contest today. It's Friday. It's a sunny, beautiful Scranton day and it's supposed to be this way through next Wednesday. And that's why the winner of today's sales contest wins Monday off, fully paid. Because nothing motivates people more than a day off."

"So how does this contest work, Michael?" Stanley asked incredulously, his eyes peering sharply at Michael. Michael hated that look: he knew it was exactly how Stanley sized people up back in his day, back on the streets. "We pair into teams?"

"That's right, Stanwich. Each sales person: yourself, Jim, Dwight, Phyllis and Kellie, will be teamed up with a non-salesperson of my choosing. Both members of whichever team that wins the sales contest gets the day off on Monday. It's a teambuilding exercise!"

Creed interjected, "Michael, I already have Monday off due to an obscure religious holiday. Could I have Tuesday off instead?"

"No, Monday only, so Creed is out, which is good, because the numbers don't quite match up anyway…"

"You pick the teams?" Phyllis meekly asked. She was still smarting from her run in with Angela when Michael had decided to take over Toby's duties as Conflict Resolution specialist.

"I have already picked them," he answered, lingering a little too long on the "I" as he often did, "Jiminy Cricket Halpert is teamed up with Queen Beesly. Stanley will hook up with Red Hot Ryan,"he added a wink in Ryan's direction, "Dwight will be with Angela, kind of a Dwigela thing, Kellie and Oscar will be together, kind of like a Three Musketeers bar, and…Phyllis and Meredith. There. Done and done."

Jim and Pam smiled at each other. Jim wanted desperately to make up for complaining to Toby about Pam's in-office wedding planning. They hadn't really talked in a week and he missed her. Pam, had she known he was thinking it, would have agreed. The days were so long when he didn't come by her desk. "Pam Pong", as Angela called it, was Pam's favorite office game.

"Michael, I don't have a team," Toby interrupted their parallel thoughts.

Kevin agreed, "Me neither."

Michael looked at Toby and stated clearly, "Well, Toby, you are in HR and are technically corporate, therefore you aren't allowed to play any of our reindeer games…Aff-lack…as for Kevin, I will add you on..to…Dwight's team. You can have a threesome with him and Angela."

"Wow! A threesome…with Kevin, Dwight AND Angela. That was a new high for Michael. The sky was really the limit on that one. Nice job. Nice word pictures, Michael," Jim went on during his interview with the cameras.

"I rather liked the 'Afflack' reference," Pam, who had joined Jim in the interview, added, "I had to check It turns out Reindeer Games was a movie Ben Affleck was in. I vaguely remember Dwight and Michael reenacting it once after they rented it."

"Yes!"Jim exclaimed, "Michael kept making Dwight be Charlize Theron…I had totally forgotten that. Well done, Pam. Nice."

With teams assigned, the Dunder-Mifflin sales contest began. It became apparent quickly that the non-sales people weren't going to be any help to the salesmen, except to distract them. Pam was of the most help to Jim, because she was able to transfer him a couple of cold sales calls that came into reception. She passed them to him with a wink and he closed them easily, even up selling the second call to recycled paper for an extra 1. A little over an hour into the contest, Jim had taken a commanding lead, closing three other sales besides Pam's gifts.

"Jim is amazing. Did you see him go? What a rock star! He just sat down and started knocking out sales. He's so talented and good at his job when he wants to be. I wish I could find a way…I wish there was a way…that Jim could get excited about things all the time." Pam's interview closed with a sheepish smile.

Jim's interview was shorter and more to the point. "I have tickets to see Live in Pittsburg on Sunday night. I've haven't missed one of their shows since I was in high school. And with Monday off I can crash at my buddy's place after the show."

"I love contests. I may be the most competitive man I have ever met," declared Dwight K Schrute during his interview in his usual fierce-eyed, moon-faced delivery. "When I was a boy I would play games with my father before dinner. Any time he won I was sent to bed with no dessert. Any time I won I was sent to bed with only dessert. I learned very quickly the nutritional value of a bunt cake."

Things progressed very well until almost ten thirty, when suddenly the phones and computers stopped working. Dial tone was gone and internet connectivity disappeared. Stanley was in mid-sale when his phone died; Dwight received only half of a faxed contract. Confusion reigned for a few minutes until Toby called IT from his cell phone, having programmed it after Michael sent out a virus to the entire office in an email forward that froze their computer system for a day and a half. Unable to solve the problem remotely, IT agreed to dispatch a technician to solve the problem locally.

No more than a half an hour later Sadiq the IT tech arrived. He was the same turbaned gentleman who had come to install the email surveillance software for Michael several months earlier, the same day as Jim's party. He eyed Michael cautiously, as Michael carefully over-explained the whole situation. Michael followed him around as Sadiq checked each telephone, fax and computer, closely examining everything Sadiq did as he worked.

"Michael, what about the sales contest?" inquired Angela. "We can't sell without computers and phones."

Michael looked perplexed and not happy that Angela was interrupting him from his careful observation of the IT guy. "Um…" he started and then caught himself, "Um, Jim…where do you think you're going? Lunch isn't for another hour or so."

Jim was grabbing his jacket as Michael asked him the question. "No phones, no computers, no faxes Michael, and I have a contest to win. So I'm hitting the road. C'mon Pam," Jim answered as he handed Pam her pink coat. She took it with a smile and walked out from behind reception.

"Yes! Yes! I like it! Old school, that's what I like to see," Michael enthused. "Everyone grab your cell phone and your keys, it's time to hit the road jack, and don't you come back no more no more no more…" He sang the last part. "Ok, come back at four so we can determine…the winnah…"

"Why does Pam get to go?" Angela spewed.

"Pam is my teammate, and this contest isn't just about sales, Angela," answered Jim, "It's about building trust, teamwork, enhancing our corporate life and bringing a sense of community to the office."

"Plus Pam can show some leg to help with sales," added Kevin.

Pam blushed while Jim responded, "Hey, whatever works, Kev," He helped Pam into her jacket as they left before anyone else could offer debate.

Michael watched as everyone pairs off, grabbed their jackets and got set to go, mostly to grumbles but to a few short smiles. Then he looked back at Sadiq for a moment. A long moment. "Executive decision!" he declared. "I've made an executive decision. Ryan, you will be staying behind in the office, to orchestrate and co-ordinate things here at home base. And," he sidled up to Ryan and whispered, "make sure nothing funny happens with the IT guy. Never too careful!"

"So who am I teaming up with?" Stanley scornfully asked.

"Me! Michael Gary Scott, back on the road, with his homie, Stanley. Ebony and Ivory, live together in perfect harmony," As he sang, Michael rotated between impressions of Stevie Wonder and Paul Mccartney.

Stanley sighed.

Jim and Pam hit the road, hopping into Jim's Corolla and starting off. Jim pulled out his cell phone and checked the battery, nodding to himself. Pam smiled; it was strange watching him give himself the same "Aw shucks" looks he gave everyone else. They drove from the Dunder-Mifflin parking lot and quickly made their way down the highway, away from the office. As they did, both smiled more broadly. Jim rolled down his window but quickly rolled it back up when he saw how the wind was blowing Pam's hair hectically. He pulled the car into a gas station and ran inside, leaving Pam in the car.

A moment later Jim returned, holding sodas for both of them. He opened Pam's door and handed her his keys. "You're driving, Beesly," he smiled. "I have to make some calls."

She screwed up her face at him, mouth slightly agape in surprise. "Really? Me?"

"You bet. You can drive an automatic, right?"

She shoved him with a laugh. "Roy never let's me drive."

"Well, you're drivin today."

"Yea!" she exclaimed in faux triumph, "Can I control the radio too?"

Jim squinted at her a moment. "I don't know, Pam. You're getting greedy." She giggled and skipped to the driver's side door. She looked at the radio station but didn't change it; it was right where she wanted it on a station Roy would throw a fit about. After a quick adjustment to the seats and mirrors, they took off down the road. She started to talk but saw that Jim was on his cell phone, apparently talking to Ryan the temp back at the office. Jim spoke rapidly and in Dunder-Mifflin language of tonnage and paperstock and contracts and within a few moments he'd finished and focused back on the road and Pam.

Jim noted that he understood suddenly why Roy didn't let Pam drive; when she wasn't weaving through traffic she was speeding though construction zones or tailgating a school bus. The whole time she drove she smiled idly. Jim had never seen a more peaceful, upbeat, terrible driver.

Oscar and Kellie drove and sang in his car, jamming to some club mix Kellie had swiped from Ryan's desk. "I can't believe you like this Oscar. Isn't it the best? Ryan has the BEST taste in music…"

"Why don't you let me do the talking this time, Michael?" Stanley finally said to Michael after a long, awkward silence while he processed Michael's behavior at their first stop.

"Well…"

"No, there's no well here, Michael. I WILL do the talking next time. There'll be no jokes about how you're my parole officer, or how we're a traveling rap group, nor will it ever be "Hammer Time". You won't call me PacStan or MC Stanley or anything of the sort. You will conduct yourself in a professional, intelligent manner or I will leave you in this car, you hear me? Do you? You may be my boss but if you mess with my money then you're messing with me and then we go a problem. Do you understand me Michael?"

Michael answered sheepishly, "Yes. I get you. I'm down."

"Oh, I'll show you 'down' if you keep messing with my money, boy."

The streets were clearly hard on Stanley, Michael thought. Pulling himself out from the ghetto must have been a challenge. He decided to not bring up any more of Stanley's tough past during their sales visits the rest of their day. There were plenty of other options to take advantage of. Really, a black guy and a white guy doing sales together…the possibilities were endless!

"Jim knows everybody, I swear," Pam marveled in her impromptu interview. "Just look at him over there," she continued as she waved in Jim's general direction. They'd stopped at another gas station to fill up and while they were there a pretty little blond, well dressed in a Jan Levinson kind of way, came out and struck up a conversation with him. They continued to chat as Pam kept talking, "I forget how cool Jim is sometimes. Because really, it's pretty hard to be cool at Dunder-Mifflin. Pre-tty hard. But he is. Jim is a cool guy." She trailed off as she glanced back at Jim, who was still chatting with the blonde. A look on consternation crossed Pam's face, "Cool guy…"

Dwight K Shrute drove with purpose. He always drove with purpose, never one to waste gas or words or motion. He was fond of saying that a jungle tiger would lay in wait for many days until just the right time, and then that tiger would strike. Once Jim asked him where he learned it and Dwight simply replied "The Learning Channel". The next day Dwight's computer made roaring sounds every time he touched the space bar and a tiger would appear on his screen at random times. It wasn't until much later he realized it was whenever he typed in his full name, middle initial included. These malfeasances were reported to Toby in their weekly meeting.

Angela sat next to Dwight, a sternly serene look on her face. Kevin was squeezed into the backseat of Dwight's Firebird, his expression a strange combination of dull boredom and over-stimulation. "Where are we going?" he asked dully.

"We are going to make sales, Kevin," Dwight answered curtly.

"Yeah…where's that?" answered Kevin, with a sly half smile.

"Wherever Dwight goes, Kevin. That's where. And where Dwight goes…" she gazed over at the much taller Dwight, a strangely affectionate look on her face. As affectionate as Angela could look, at least. Dwight answered with an equally unsettling look of fierce longing.

Kevin slowly sized up Dwight, then Angela, then Dwight again. He took a heavy breath and developed a mental picture. Slowly, a smile crossed his fat face. Sitting back in the tiny seat, he chuckled to himself.

"Do I want to have Monday off?" Dwight asked rhetorically I his interview, "No, of course not. I enjoy my job. Every Monday morning I bring Michael a Cinnebon and Chai tea. Do you think he wants to not enjoy a delicious Cinnebon on Monday? Of course not. I do, however, want to beat Jim. Of course, I am the number one salesman in northeast Pennsylvania, so beating Jim won't be too much of an issue. Question: When I beat Jim, should I still come into work on Monday, just to see the look on his sad, defeated face?"

"You hungry at all Pam?" asked Jim as he hung up his cell. He had been talking for a few minutes while she aimlessly drove.

"Yeah. Especially because the cleaning crew tossed everything in the fridge last night. So I didn't get my yogurt," Pam answered.

Jim shrugged, "Too bad. I was saving something in there for Todd Packer too. Oh well. Lunch it is. Turn left up here, I know a great little place. And," he smiled, "Lunch is on me."

Pam signaled her turn and squinted at the signs. She didn't really know where she was but the prospect of free lunch at a new restaurant did sound nice. Roy hated going to new places, especially any place farther away than ten minutes from home. She couldn't recall the last time eating out didn't involve Poor Richards or Applebee's.

"Just turn right up here," Jim instructed as they pulled into the small parking lot of a little eatery called Ricky's. "I think you'll like this place, Pam. They have some of the best coffee in Pennsylvania. No lie."

Oscar and Kellie pulled into an Applebee's parking lot and looked at each other for a moment. Finally, Kellie spoke," Oscar, I have to be honest with you. There's no way we're going to win this contest. I have, like, no contacts and Jim and Dwight are both totally way better than me. I just don't want you to get your hopes up and we've been having so much fun just driving around, you know!"

Oscar looked at his hands for a moment and then smiled at her, "Yes, this has been very fun. If we aren't going to win, why don't we have some lunch and then go see a movie? I bet you want to see Stick It."

"Oh Oscar, you're the most perfect man ever! How has some girl NOT scooped you up yet! If I didn't have Ryan…"

"Stanley communicates though yelling…a lot," Michael slowly said in his interview. His voice was low and his eyes barely looked at the camera, a big change for Michael. "I think somehow our sales styles, out comedy styles really, aren't quite on the same page. He's more of a straight man and I need another gag guy. See, I'm a gag guy but I need another gag guy. A straight man is just dead weight. Like, when I'm with Todd Packer, it's just two gag guys, working away. You never know what hit you. You're just laughing and happy. Stanley just doesn't get that. He's more of a traditionalist. But don't worry…I have got a great idea to spice things up and ace this sales contest."

Stanley was more to the point. "He called us 'Chillins who be tired of workin for the man'. He tried to get me to sing 'Swing Low Sweet Chariot'. He described us as an Oreo cookie, looked at me and changed it t a double stuff, only backwards." Eyes rolling, he finished with a defeated sigh, "I can't wait to work on Monday."

Jim was right: Lunch had been great. Ricky's was a cute little mom and pop café with cobblestone flooring and a small, atrium style dining room. Pam had a cup of lobster bisk soup and half a turkey avocado sandwich and had to admit she'd never had better soup. Jim had a burger and fries, which made Pam think back to the last time she'd seen Jim eat a lunch that wasn't a ham and cheese. Pam noticed again that everyone knew Jim: the waitress, the host, the guy behind the bar, even the manager came out to talk to him and shake his hand. "I come here a lot," he answered with a shrug when she questioned him about it. She simply nodded knowingly at him and considered the time when Ryan started the fire in the break room and Jim clearly knew the fire chief. "Oh that," he responded, "I did the contract for all the fire stations in Lackawanna County. That was Brian; he was one of the guys dealt with."

"I thought Michael and Jan closed the Lackawanna County deal?" Pam asked him.

Jim swallowed the last of his fries before he answered. "Yeah, yeah, Brian and a couple of the other chiefs were so happy with how everything went that they went to Christian who actually contacted Dunder-Mifflin about using us. But, it was such a big account that corporate took over the negotiations." He dropped his head and fiddled with his fork. "But it all worked out, so it's great, right?"

It was the first time Pam had seen Jim not defeated or broken by Dunder-Mifflin but rather disappointed . Compassion crossed her face as she tilted her head at him and reached over to put her hand on his. "Jim—," she started.

He gave her a cross look. "No, it's okay. I do not want sympathy over lost sales at Dunder-Mifflin. That's like sympathy for—for,"

"For Dwight," she finished with an easy smile.

"Exactly, exactly!" Jim's demeanor changed almost immediately. He sat up straight and the sincere, unflappable body language returned. "Right, let's get a check and get out of here. What next?"

She snorted at him, "You tell me. Are you actually planning on making any sales today?"

"Oh, good question. You stay here; I'll be right back.. Maybe I will make one of those pesky sales today." He retorted mischievously. Jim stood and walked away, leaving Pam sitting quietly, happy they were back talking and smiling and laughing. As she contemplated their relationship Monica, the waitress, arrived with a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream, her absolute favorite. Unable to help herself, Pam giggled and let herself clap, just twice, very quietly, and took to devouring her dessert. She was almost done when Jim came back, a satisfied look on his face. "Oh hey, how was it?"

"So good. You know it's my favorite. I made sure to save you none."

"Appreciated."

She turned her head slightly from him and grinned. For one second they simply enjoyed the moment, him standing and her sitting, all manner of playful thoughts lingering unsaid, hanging in the air. Finally he sat down with her, grabbed the check and pulled out his wallet. The waitress Monica walked over as he did and pulled the check from his hand, "Sorry Mr Halpert. Your money is no good here."

He thanked her graciously as Pam stared, flabbergasted.

"What was up with that?" Pam demanded during her interview. "Does he have magic powers? Is he some kind of Jedi? Does Jim Halpert have knowledge of the force?"

"She said what? Pam Beesly, Star Wars geek? Wow, that girl is always a surprise. I cannot wait to tell Dwight." Jim ended his interview with a grin.

Ryan the Temp sat alone in the office. Toby had sat in his corner cubicle until everyone was safely gone, finished his work and then left. He muttered something about taking a sick day because he was sick of Michael and Ryan swore there was a little cursing. Creed was a little less subtle: he simply waited until everyone was gone and then left himself. He didn't say a word, he just left. Ryan almost had to admire his complete disregard for the rules. As an assignment for his business classes, Ryan had to sit down and create a more efficient model for running his office. It took Ryan barely more than three hours to completely reorganize the office, increasing efficiency and productivity by nearly 17 while retaining the entire staff. The entire staff, minus one. Ryan's projections had eliminated the need for one temporary office employee. Realizing he'd projected himself right out of his job, Ryan sat back with a smile and said, "Perfect." He'd tried to show it to Michael but of course Michael didn't understand the spreadsheets and the PowerPoint. For whatever reason, Michael Scott thrived in an atmosphere of inefficiency and chaos, and for whatever reason, Ryan found he was minding less and less.

Michael had reassured him that he would get Monday off if Michael and Stanley won, and Michael had called to tell Ryan that they had added Todd Packer to their team too, so it was "in the bag." Ryan recalled the day he spent driving Packer around; he decided that he would rather have Stanley scream at him about checking out his daughter than to have to spend any additional time in Todd Packer's presence. Mostly because he didn't really need to be called "pussy" or "bitch" anymore.

Ryan had fielded calls from Jim most of the day once the contest started and ran over to Vance Refrigeration several times on Jim's behalf. The IT outage didn't extend to any of the other businesses in the building, a fact that only Jim seemed to understand. Ryan had faxed out three big contracts for Jim from Vance and Jim had promised at least one more. Ryan was fascinated by Jim, a guy close to his own age with no discernable motivations or ambitions. Jim seemed defined by his own routine. Ryan corrected himself: Jim clearly had one motivation, but it was an unspoken one. They'd hung out a few times and Ryan always enjoyed it, and Jim had even given Ryan his blessing to ask out Katy after they'd broken up.

Ryan's cell phone vibrated, alerting him to a text message. From Kellie. He sighed. Kellie meant no asking Katy out.

Sadiq came in from checking the phone room in the basement. "I can't find anything wrong down there," he lamented. "I have another specialist coming down from hq. It'll be a while."

"Great," Ryan muttered. "I guess it's no more or less productive than any other day." He checked his phone: two missed calls from Michael and one from Kellie. Ryan shook his head.

"Wait a minute, man," Sadiq said, "I just realized where I recognized you from. You were on Millionaire a couple years ago, weren't you? You were the guy in the Wilco shirt."

Ryan laughed with a start. "Yeah man, that was me. Wow, Crazy memory."

"I love that show. Final answer! Regis! How much did you win there?"

"Fifty grand," Ryan answered. A smile crossed his face as he relived his glories. "That was fun, man."

"And now you work…here?"

With a shrug Ryan answered, "Well, I spent most of it on business school. Paid off my car. Plus I was like twenty at the time so of course I took off to Europe and backpacked around for the summer. I even sewed a flag on my backpack. Found myself. Whatever that means."

"And now you find yourself…here?"

He dropped his head slightly. "Yeah, here."

Ryan's phone rang and he stared at it with dread. "Oh hey Jim, I can get some papers for you…"

Kevin Malone watched in quiet surprise as Dwight performed his sales. For such a weird guy, he was actually very natural and almost funny. Dwight's style of selling was simple and matter of fact. He demonstrated benefits of his products, highlighting Dunder-Mifflin's excellent customer service record and consistent market share in the industry. He was well prepared for the needs of businesses they visited and was quick enough on his feet to answer even their most difficult questions. Most impressive, Dwight was a closer. He refused to take no for an answer.

"My grandfather never believed in the word 'No'," Dwight told Kevin and Angela. "Before the war he was a traveling salesman, selling dictionaries and thesauruses door to door. He actually removed the pages with the word 'no' from every book he sold."

"Did he tell them he did?" Kevin mused.

"What? No, of course he did. Maybe he didn't. Paper costs were outrageous back then and he had to keep his overhead low. That's not the point Kevin!"

Angela interjected. "The point is that Dwight comes from a long line of men who are not only driven, but driven to success. The way men should be." She shot what could not even be described as a half smile to Dwight and he met her with a look that could only be described as somewhat passionate.

In an interview, Kevin stated simply, "That car ride is getting creepy."

Stanley Hudson watched Michael and Todd Packer work their sales pitch on a beleaguered office manager at Countrywide Travel. The man could not get a word in edgewise as the two of them just pelted him with one liners and poorly constructed jokes and impressions. At one point Michael started singing "Let's get It started" while Packer was reciting the words to "My Humps", both songs Stanley knew were by the Black Eyed Peas thanks to his daughter's near-obsession with them. Stanley felt that, had she heard Michael and Packer's versions, she would not have liked then nearly as much.

To Stanley's surprise, whatever their technique was, it worked. Michael had called Packer in as a "secret weapon" when it was obvious that his sales technique wasn't compatible with Stanley's. Packer was a great closer, after all the foolishness and bad jokes and innuendo. He almost bullied the poor sap at the travel agency in to accepting their offer, after which Michael took the young man aside and reassured him like a girl after a date gone horribly wrong.

In his interview, Stanley said, "Somehow I feel very dirty, just watching the whole thing. But we made the sale. If I'm going to be stuck in a car with Michael and Packer all day, we better end up winning."

"OK, pull in here. I have to get some flowers for my mom's birthday and then I swear, we will get going and start making some sales. I promise." Jim instructed Pam as they pulled into Avalon Florists. Avalon was one of the biggest florist chains in Pennsylvania; Pam had loved their arrangements for her wedding but Roy vetoed her, saying they were too expensive.

She looked at Jim. "Aren't you adorable? You love your mommy. Momma's boy."

He looked at her, very seriously. "Mothers are no laughing matter, Pam. Try to show some respect." They locked eyes a moment before they mutually started giggling. "Dang it, I thought I had you on that one."

"Keep trying, Halpert. Momma's boy."

"Just don't tell anyone."

They strolled into the store, a huge glass building with a massive outdoor garden. Pam gravitated towards the roses and bouquets while Jim walked towards the main sales area. He looked back and gave her a "Just give me a minute" look which she acknowledged with a smile. Jim found a sales person and began chatting. Pam had given up on marveling at his popularity. She idly drifted through the wedding section, looking longingly at all the different and expensive flowers she couldn't have at her wedding to Roy. It wasn't that bad, she thought. Her flowers are plenty beautiful and arraigning them herself with her cousins would be a fun Memorial Day activity. They'd watch a movie and chat. She was almost excited. She decided she would let them watch "Legally Blond" as long as they would watch "Spinal Tap" also. Otherwise, no deal. Mentally, she put her foot down.

As she glided through the store she would occasionally catch Jim in the corner of her vision, his smile lighting up the room and his laugh, genuine and kind, echoed in the big space. His hair looked blonder in the bright sun shining through the skylight. She tilted her head and admired his walk, so confident yet unassuming. Everyone was ease talking to Jim, which was one of the main reasons she liked him so much. Jim was easy and fun, plus he was sweet to her, he listened to her and made her feel like her opinions were important and valued. "Your opinions are important," he told her once. "They're important to me."

She stayed on his words in her thoughts for a while as she walked around. She felt warm, not just from the sun, and she couldn't help but smile serenely. "Midnight Train to Georgia" played in the background. Pam had stopped in front of a particular arraignment she liked and was swaying to the song, her hand tapping to the beat against her thigh.

Jim had finished what he was doing when he saw her. He stopped in his tracks and just watched her, without any self-consciousness or awareness, just be herself in a moment. He loved moments like that, when Pam was just being Pam, perfectly comfortable in herself. For a long moment he just stared and his smile did nothing but get bigger.

She mouthed the words slightly and touched a few of the flowers, fingering the price tag. Suddenly she had the feeling she was being observed somehow, like someone was watching her in case she was shoplifting, and Pam looked around subtly. Her eyes came across Jim, smiling at her happily. He nodded, and pumped his arm as the Pips called out "Woo Woo". She beamed as she walked over to him, stopping just before him.

"So," she finally asked after a moment, in a low voice much more hoarse than she had anticipated. "Are we ever going to make any sales today?"

He stood straight up and his demeanor changed, still playful but distinctly different. "You'd be surprised, Pam," he answered slyly. "Oh hey, I have someone here who wants to meet you."

She cocked her head in confusion. "Who wants to meet me? Is it you mom? Is she here? Momma Halpert?"

With a laugh, he answered, "No, no," he led her over to the main sales desk where a nicely dressed man in his late forty's stood. "Pam, this is Seth Raymond. He's from Avalon Corporate Office. Seth, did you get those faxes yet?"

"Indeed I did, although the cover sheet said 'Vance Refrigeration'." He responded and nodded as Jim mentioned the broken faxes. "I will have them signed and faxed back by the end of the day. It's a pleasure to do business with you and your company. Would this Miss Beesly, the graphic designer you were telling me about?"

Pam stared back at Jim in shock. He smiled reassuringly at her and answered, "This is Pam, yes. Pam, when we were talking Seth here mentioned that Avalon was thinking about going a different direction with some of their logos and graphics and the general look of their company, and I naturally mentioned the most talented graphic artist I know." She just stared at him, following along and nodding, before she mouthed "What are you doing?" to him.

"I understand you are currently the receptionist at Dunder-Mifflin, is that correct Pam?" Seth asked. She nodded in response and he continued. "And I understand you were offered a graphic arts internship there as well. And that you studied graphic design in college. And I understand that Jim here speaks incredibly highly not only of you as an artist but as a person as well. Would you be at least interested in discussing what we are looking for and giving me some rough ideas? I can't guarantee anything, obviously we will be bidding this job to professional designers as well, but I can promise we will give you a fair shake."

"Are you serious?" she asked finally, incredulous.

"Absolutely. Believe me, Jim here is as persuasive a Pam Beesly supporter as he is a salesman."

She turned to Jim, a look beyond description on her face. Jim just smiled, her favorite smile, the one that gave reassurance and support and warmth. "Jim…" she started and he simply stood up.

"Why don't we sit down somewhere and you can talk with Pam about what you're looking for. And boy, I could really go for a Coke…"

Seth stood and guided her farther back into an office in the recess of the building while Jim walked off to buy a Coke. An hour later Pam completed her meeting with Seth. After hearing his ideas, she furiously scribbled sketches and pictures on whatever she could find: notepads, napkins, paper towels, floral wrap. For the first time in a long time she felt inspired; ideas flowed out of her almost faster than she could get them onto a page. He was genuinely impressed, very gracious and kind, and asked her several times to expand on one thing or combine two others. Finally, he thanked her for her time and walked her out, promising to fax her more information by the end of the next week. She was giddy and trembling slightly from all the adrenaline as she walked, and after shaking Seth's hand she turned to see Jim waiting in the entryway. She ran to him, as a small scream of "Oh my God!" let out, and she jumped into his him, thanking him over and over again.

As they turned to leave Pam began talked, telling Jim all about the meeting and her ideas excitedly. She grabbed his arm tightly as they walked and Jim noted it silently, smiled, and kept listening.

Jim explained in his interview. "Obviously I've been making sales all day. Stephanie is the regional office manager for all the SuperGas stations in New England and we were finally able to meet. And David over at Ricky's, well, he owns four other restaurants in Scranton and I got all of them too. Avalon was the best one, though. I actually talked to Seth the first time while buying flowers for my mom. Anyway, I've had them lined up for a couple weeks and today was just a perfect day to get them all done. And we got to be out on a beautiful Friday and we got lunch. I'm usually better in person, anyway. Right?" He looked over to Pam, who was sitting next to him, intently watching him talk, seemingly oblivious to the camera crew.

She smiled sweetly and nodded. "Much better."

Jim flushed and continues, flustered ever so slightly. "Yeah, he just kind of randomly brought it up. Seth started in on how they needed a new logo on their stationary and how they were going to need a new designer. I just asked him a couple questions and the next thing we knew Pam was in there knocking his socks off. Tell them…" he prodded.

"Yep," she said dreamily. "No socks." She never stopped looking at Jim.

"I, ah," he stammered, rambling awkwardly while Pam watched him. "Yeah, so…what's with you? You're, ah, kind of freaking me out here."

She leaned up to him, with no thought of being on camera, and kissed his cheek. "You're wonderful, Jim Halpert. Thank you. You're my best friend and you're wonderful."

He looked back at her, very seriously, and suddenly the moment was pregnant with meaning. His lips formed words but he paused before finally saying in a soft, sweet voice, "You're welcome."

Jim and Pam were the last to arrive back at the Dunder-Mifflin offices, just three minutes shy of four o'clock. "It's a good thing you got here before four," Dwight warned. "Anyone not here at four o'clock is automatically disqualified."

They shrugged in response. "Good thing we didn't play that third round of paint ball, huh Pam?"

She answered, "No kidding. I didn't think that SEAL team could have handled another beating anyway." She'd snapped out of her dreamy state on the car ride back, although she still gazed sweetly every time she looked at Jim.

"Paintball? What?" Dwight blurted, completely thrown off.

Michael appeared from his office, yelling "Pam-el-ah! Pam-e-la-ha! (Van Halen.) Anyway, great, everyone's back!" Jim looked around. Everyone was not back: Creed, Toby, Meredith and Phyllis were no where to be seen. Ryan nodded to him from his desk, tapping away on his computer while Sadiq exited Michael's office.

"The phones and computers are fixed?" Pam asked.

Sadiq nodded. "It's true. We isolated the issue and were able to correct it. Weren't we Michael?"

"Hey man, don't blame me if the phone bill didn't get paid. That's accounting's bad, not mine." Michael protested, shooting an accusing look Angela's way.

Kevin sat in his interview, a massive, satisfied grin on his face.

"Wow, this sales contest turned out to not even be a contest," Ryan said after tallying all the numbers. "The winners by a landslide are Jim and Pam. It wasn't even close."

Jim sat back in his chair and smiled while Pam let out a little "Woo-hoo" from reception. Everyone else in the office reacted as they suspected: Packer demanded a recount, Oscar was gracious, Kellie was chatty, Angela sulked, Stanley shook their hands and Dwight reviewed each and every contract Jim produced. "How did you do this?" he questioned. "You finished ninth. Ninth! But these deals you pulled…are nothing short of amazing." Dwight looked directly at Jim as he spoke. "I may not like you, Jim Halpert, but I damn well sure do respect you. Nice job. I concede my defeat to you for this contest."

"Thanks Dwight," Jim answered. He really had nothing at all to say. He heard Kellie talking to Pam behind him, as Pam recounted their day. Kellie continually interjected, wanting to know the address of Ricky's and what flowers were Pam's favorites and all manner of minutiae. While they talked Roy appeared in the lobby. "Hey babe, you just about ready to go?"

"Just a couple minutes, Roy. It's not five yet. I had the most amazing day; I cannot wait to tell you about it. So many great things happened…"Pam answered in a bubbly, almost festive fashion.

Roy nodded absently as he walked back to the door, "OK, you can tell me on the way to my softball game. You remembered my bag this time right?"

Jim sighed as she responded coldly, "It's in the truck."

"Great. I'll be in the parking lot."

Jim closed his thoughts on the day in his final interview in the conference room. "I have to admit, considering I got a lot of work done, it was a good day. A really good day. And I get Monday off, so I can go see Live without worrying on Sunday."

Pam was with him again. "Let's see: I had Vanilla Bean ice cream, the best soup I've ever had, I got to take a real live meeting for a real live graphic design job, I found out Jim Halpert is a momma's boy, and I got to drive all day. Yeah, it was a good day. A really good day. Thanks Jim."

"Thank you, Pam." They shared a smile. "Say, what did ever happen to Meredith and Phyllis?"

As five o'clock came and went, Phyllis turned to Meredith and asked, "I don't think we won."

Meredith hoisted another drink to the sky and grabbed another wad of singles before she headed back to the main stage. Cherokee was about to perform. "Next time. I promise."


End file.
